Africa has it that a woman’s workshop
Is only to get the worms in a man fed
But there’s more to this instead;
So this notion we must put to a stop.
Our workshops are not only rooms filled up with dishes
Or an abode where saintly fragrance dwells
But a room wherefore a woman teaches
the world to always have good stories to tell.
Our workshops are fortresses of procreation
That should remain undefiled.
It’s not a workshop you have to access by being wild.
What happened to the thing called consension?
Our workshops are not the physicals you see
For they are the unlike poles that completes the cycle
though you may bluntly disagree
But the workshop within keep men within our circle.
Our workshops lie within us;
For when you find a woman you find a treasure
that can stand against all forces.
For we’ll fight with every measure.
Our workshops lie also in our heads and hearts
For in us lies the wells of compassion.
This has always been from the start
For by educating this workshop you educate a nation.